


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by Sven_Wolfstrom92



Category: Batman Beyond
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Language, Gay Sex, M/M, Triggers, Underage Drinking, Vandalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sven_Wolfstrom92/pseuds/Sven_Wolfstrom92
Summary: Ghoul and Terry get rained into an abandoned house. . . Fun times ensue. . .





	1. Rained In

**Author's Note:**

> This was among the very first fanfics I ever wrote. I forgot about it until recently and finally got around to rewriting it. It needed a lotta work lol unlike my other stories, this one is complete and I will get all the chapters posted.
> 
> Inspired by a fanfic I read ages ago and can no longer remember
> 
> Also the band Sweet Sister Suicide and the mentioned songs belong to me

“Well looks like we're going to be stuck here for a little while,” Ghoul said as he peered out one of the broken windows, frowning at the violent storm that had come on so suddenly dropping buckets upon buckets of rain; he turned to look at his housemate, who stood shivering in the shadows, “It’s alright, bats, you can trust me with your identity. Go ahead, strip, while I get the fire going.”

“How bout no,” Batman growled through chattering teeth, “I'd rather freeze.”

"Fine, suit yourself,” Ghoul shrugged and knelt to examine some wood that the previous tenants had so graciously left.

He picked out a couple of good sized logs and arranged them carefully in the fire place, making sure to open the valve before dousing the logs with the lighter fluid he'd found. With this done, Ghoul then pulled a match from his pocket and grimaced. It was slightly damp, but maybe. . . He struck it against the hearth and instantly a little flame appeared. Picking up a shred of paper, he set it on fire and threw it onto the top log and immediately a fire burst to life, gnawing at whatever was there to eat. Ghoul blew out the match before throwing some more paper scraps onto it, prodding it gently with a fire poker. Setting the poker aside, he stood up. Batman watched mystified as the blonde then proceeded to strip, not caring whether or not he was alone. It was when he grabbed the waistband of his boxers that Batman finally looked away. Ghoul laughed, a cruel yet cheerful sounding laugh.

“What’s the matter bats? You embarrassed? ‘Cause I sure as hell ain't,” And with that he yanked down his boxers and pulled them off with glee.

Batman muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Glad the mask hid the fact he was blushing. Ghoul laughed again and gathering up his clothes, walked over and began to hang them on an old curtain rod that stuck out from the wall at an odd angle. Batman gave the Goth the once over. His eyes trailing hungrily over the pale stitch covered body. He had to admit that Johnathan Crane’s nephew was quite sexy in a strange way with his feminine curves and that nicely toned. . .

“Enjoying the view?” Ghoul inquired, his voice slicing through Batman’s thoughts.

He gave his ass a shake for emphasis causing the hero to turn away in a mixture of embarrassment and disgust soliciting yet another cheerfully cruel laugh.

“I’m gonna go ahead and get out of this suit, but you better not tell anyone who I am or I will personally kill you,” Batman finally grumbled when Ghoul’s laughter subsided once more.

“Alright,” Ghoul shrugged again and commenced to drying off with an old table cloth, being careful not to look in his nemesis’ direction.

Batman sighed and slowly began to peel back the layers until finally only the mask remained. Ghoul, who’d been watching with his peripherals, held his breath as the hero began to remove the cowl in a dramatic fashion. He wanted so bad to just go over and rip it off, but knew he'd be crossing one too many boundaries - many he wanted to cross, but at the same time didn't want to get his head torn off. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the first came mask off followed quickly by the second revealing a slightly disheveled Terry McGinnis.

“Ha, I knew it!” Ghoul smirked, “I mean I had a feeling it was you, but I wasn’t too sure until now at least. But like I said you don’t have to worry, I was given the boot this afternoon. The Jokerz decided they didn’t need me now that I’m supposed to play Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes-Rich-Boy, so I’m just a goon for hire again, yippie for me,” He tossed Terry an old dust cover, “Dry off with that, it smells half way decent.”

Terry caught it and gave it a verifying sniff before using it to towel off. Once he was dry, he wrapped the dust cover around his waist before going to find a place to hang up the bat-suit where it wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. Not that there was anyone else, but it didn’t hurt to be safe. When he returned, Ghoul was stretch out in front of the fire, the table cloth draped carelessly over his lower half, his eyes narrowed as he watched the flickering flames. Terry’s heart skipped a beat and almost stopped. Not only was Ghoul breath taking in the firelight, but right then he looked so much like his dearly departed uncle that it was terrifying. Shaking off the urges that suddenly arose, Terry sank into an old undisturbed easy chair that was still partially concealed by a yellowed dust cover. He cleared his throat to get Ghoul’s attention.

“Why were you doing what you were doing when I busted you earlier?”

“Trying to blow off steam,” Ghoul shrugged and picked at the threadbare carpet in a nervous fashion.

“Oh, yes, because nothing says vent your anger like spray painting ‘fuck you, Nazi pigs’ on the side of City Hall,” Terry commented, sarcastically; he sighed,, “Seriously, Ghoul, you really need to find something else to do when you need to let off some steam. Like me, for instance, I work out or go for a run, maybe you should consider doing the same.”

“Pfft,” Ghoul scoffed at the idea, “I’d rather destroy shit or do some serious hacking, ruin peoples lives and what not or listen to ear-drum blowing music.”

“Ugh,” Terry grimaced, not even bothering to mask his disgust, “How you can call that shitty ass band you like so much musicians, is beyond me.”

“You’d be amazed at how mind blowing they really are,” Ghoul retorted, rolling his eyes, “But you know, I do listen to other things.”

“Oh?” Terry was intrigued, “Like what?”

“Oh, you know, Type O Negative, Fallout Boy, MCR, the classics,” Ghoul tilted his head to look at the hero, “What about you?”

“Bout the same,” It was Terry's turn to shrug, “But I mostly like that new group that just came out.”

“You mean Sweet Sister Suicide?” Ghoul was shocked, “You actually listen to music like that?”

“Sure, on occasion, when the mood strikes,” Terry smiled then, “I actually had Blood Daring blaring in the Bat-mobile the other day, pissed Bruce off.”

“I bet,” Ghoul chuckled, “Though I prefer Voodoo Doll or Sweet Mortification myself.”

“Too slow for my tastes,” Terry stood and stretched, “Well I'm gonna go see if there’s any booze laying around, hell since we’re gonna be stuck for awhile, may as make the most of it, right?”

“Right,” Ghoul got to his feet as well, catching the table cloth before it could fall and wrapping it back around his waist, “I'll help you look.”


	2. Let the Good Times Roll

Fifteen minutes later, the two teens found themselves sitting in front of each other before the fire, sharing an ancient bottle of Jack and laughing hysterically about random things.

“I still can't believe you pissed the bed until you were fourteen,” Terry teased, taking a slug from the bottle before passing it back to Ghoul, who mirrored his movement.

“Hey, growing up the way I did, my actions is justifiable,” Ghoul slurred in response, not giving a shit that his grammar was bad, “I mean really, I’s had peoples yellin’ at me for various reasons, or sometimes for nothin’ at all.”

“Damn,” Terry grimaced and took another drink, “Well that is justifiable then.”

He offered the bottle to Ghoul, who gestured it away.

“I's good man, really good," The hacker hiccuped, “I feel amazing right now.”

“I know what you mean,” Terry took another drink from the bottle before setting it aside, “I’m kinda glad that we got rained into this abandoned house.”

“Me too,” Ghoul mumbled, he scooted closer to Terry, “You know, you’re kinda cute for a hero. . .”

Before Terry knew what was happening, he found himself locking lips with one of his many enemies. He tried to push the Goth away but found that with a healthy amount of alcohol in his system, he wasn’t as strong as he usually was. He reluctantly caved; reciprocating with the same amount of ferocity. When they finally came up for air, Terry pushed Ghoul to the floor and pinned him; forcing his arms above his head and holding him there. Ghoul’s eyes widened in surprise. They’d been a similar position before, but not like this. . . Terry straddled Ghoul. Kissing him again. Ghoul, in turn, whimpered and writhed beneath him. His erection prominent and demanding through the light material of the table cloth.

“Mm,” Terry ended the kiss without warning.

“What’s wrong?” Ghoul fretted, his concern evident.

“Nothing,” Terry assured him, “I’m just contemplating my next move and tormenting you in the process.”

He pressed their erections together for emphasis soliciting a moan from the hacker.

"You evil, sorry, son-of-a-"

Terry cut Ghoul off with yet another kiss. Moving from his lips, he trailed a series of kisses along his jawline, down his neck. . . Going lower and lower. . . Leaving love bites in his wake. Ghoul groaned and arched up into him in response. Inhaling sharply as Terry undid the table cloth around his waist. Exposing his nakedness.

“Relax,” Terry soothed, kissing the space between Ghoul’s naval and groin, “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I-I trust you,” Ghoul declared, visibly relaxing as Terry began to gently prepare him for the inevitable. . .


	3. F*ck Gotham

It hurt. As it should. Despite the tantalizing prep work, it still hurt like hell. Ghoul winced as his not-so-virgin hole was stretched to accommodate Terry’s slightly larger cock. God, it hurt. He wanted to buck Terry off. To just curl up and sleep off the alcohol, and forget the whole thing. But he didn’t. Instead, he persevered and the reward was better than any payment he’d ever been given for his skills. The pleasure that washed over him was nothing like he’d ever experienced before and when Terry finally began to move. . . Ghoul was on a whole other plane of existence. He dug his jagged nails into Terry’s shoulders as he began to move with him; matching the hero thrust for thrust. . .

“YES! OH HOLY FUCK, YES!”

“Ghoul. . .”

“Call me by real name.”

“What’s your-”

“Stewart. My real name’s Stewart.”

Terry faltered,

“Stewart, really?”

“Yeah, just shut up and fuck me,” Ghoul growled.

Terry didn’t need to be told twice. He resumed fucking him without hesitation. Falling back into rhythm with ease.

“Stewart, ngh. . .” Terry moaned as Ghoul pulled him into a kiss that was mostly tongue and teeth, but neither of them cared.

It felt too good for either of them to care. . .

“Oh God, I’m gonna-” Terry gasped and cried out, thrusting in as deep as humanly possible as he came.

Hitting that certain spot that made fireworks dance and explode before Ghoul’s eyes as he plummeted over the edge into oblivion. Joining his lover in nirvana. When Ghoul finally came down from his orgasm fueled high, Terry was stretched out beside him. Basking in the shared afterglow. Somewhere in the quiet darkness of the house, he could hear the intercom built into Terry’s mask crackle to life. Much to his surprise, the hero ignored it.

“The city can wait,” Terry proclaimed in response to Ghoul’s unvoiced question, “I just wanna stay here and forget things for awhile.”

Ghoul rolled over and tentatively snuggled up to him, resting his head on his chest,

“Me too.”


End file.
